


The Great Confetti Caper

by whimsicalwombat



Category: The Blacklist (US TV)
Genre: (spoiler alert: he's not), Aram thinks he's so sneaky, F/M, Fluff, Happy New Year!!!, misadventures and shenanigans, saram squad gift exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:08:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22063045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalwombat/pseuds/whimsicalwombat
Summary: With a few days off over the holidays, Samar and Aram head to New York City for some time to themselves and, well... Some festive shenanigans.
Relationships: Aram Mojtabai/Samar Navabi
Kudos: 6





	The Great Confetti Caper

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greetingsanddefiance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greetingsanddefiance/gifts).



> Happy 2020, Katie!
> 
> This story is loosely inspired by some New Year's shenanigans of my own that happened when I visited New York. I thought Samar and Aram might be more successful in their escapades than I was, though! Enjoy! <3

For all Aram's recent field training, and for all of his surprising undercover work ability in the field, when it came to keeping a straight face at home, Aram was hopeless. 

Scratch that. 

He was _tragic._

It was always obvious when he was up to something. His eyes crinkled and his lips twitched with the grin he could barely contain. His usual ambling around the apartment turned into something far more resembling a scuttle or scamper, and his gaze flickered furtively back and forth to no end. 

Samar couldn't help but let out a wry smile every time he ducked past her, humming gleefully to himself, or every time he averted his alarmed, wide eyed gaze when she caught him grinning at her. 

For the most part she was usually happy to let him carry on, thinking he was successfully pulling off some clever surprise, and then patiently wait the extra day or so for him to reveal what on earth it was, but this time it was different. 

This time, Aram had been acting, well, suspicious for almost a _week._

Whatever he was planning this time, it was _big._

Or at least, bigger than the usual surprises of small gifts or dinners out. 

And as amused as she was, Samar's curiosity was steadily being overtaken by impatience. 

Aram scuttled past her cozy spot on the couch in what was the umpteenth time that morning alone and Samar let out a sigh of affectionate exasperation. She closed her book –the book she had been _hoping_ to read for a lazy weekend, only to have Aram's antics distract her into reading the same page six times over- and set it on the table beside her. Then Samar turned, in her impromptu nest of couch cushions and throw blankets, shooting Aram a single, raised eyebrow. 

'Ok, Aram,' she drolly began. 'What are you planning?' 

Just like that, Aram froze. He turned in the middle of the kitchen, glancing back at her with his eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, and Samar couldn't help but force herself to stifle the laugh. She could only imagine the little voice immediately ringing in the back of his brain; 

_Buuuusteed._

'What, uh, makes you think I'm planning anything?' Aram tilted his head, trying –and dismally failing- the façade of innocence. Samar's smirk only widened.   
'You've got that look on your face, like you can barely contain yourself,' she chuckled back. 'And even if I wasn't sure until I asked, you just answered my question with a question.' 

Aram bowed his head, letting out a sigh of defeat. There was no keeping his cover now. 

'Well...' He began, the disappointment of his plan being foiled _barely_ masking his excitement. 'I was hoping to have it all finalised before you caught on, but-' he narrowed his eyes in mock annoyance '-I thought we should make use of the Post Office being shut down over the holidays, and take a trip.' Samar tilted her head quizzically, and Aram broke into a wide smile. He paused for a second, darting across the room and then back again, a neatly folded wad of paper tied up with a leftover Christmas bow now in hand, before gleefully announcing; 'four days in New York City.' 

Samar took the paper from him, unfolding it and curiously skimming over the first few lines. 

'You want to go to New York?' She mused. Then her eyes settled on the date. 'Over New Year's?' Samar glanced up again, staring back at him skeptically. 'Aram, do you not remember the story I told you-'   
'-When your Mossad team pulled off the perfect raid right on the edge of Times Square in spite of the crowds. Everyone was so focused on the ball drop, nobody noticed a thing-' Aram rattled off, nodding quickly to boot '-thus cementing the idea that you never, _ever,_ want to be anywhere near the insane crowd in Times Square on New Year's.' He grinned again. 'I remember.'   
'Then...?' Samar trailed off, quizzically furrowing her brow once more.   
'I was _going_ to present to you the ultimate itinerary for celebrating New Year's everywhere _but_ Times Square, but you torpedoed my reveal before I was ready.' The tone was one of chastising, and even Aram's pursed lips did their best to feign annoyance, but the dark eyes crinkling in adoring affection for her wry cynicism gave his real feelings away. 

'Sorry.' Samar laughed, but sheepishly bowed her head all the same. Then her smile softened, and she looked up again; 'what have you got it down to so far?' 

Aram's eyes flashed with excitement once more. He darted forwards and around the couch, bouncing on the balls of his feet until he settled into the cushions beside her. Then he ruffled through the wad of pages, pointing to a printout of some kind of listicle. 

'Live music and fireworks in Prospect Park if you're feeling like a picnic and casual atmosphere,' he suggested first, pointing at the top of the list. 'If you want to get dressed up for something more fancy, there are some pretty great dinner cruises out of New York harbour, also with fireworks.' One by one, he ticked them off on his fingers; 'there's a four mile midnight fun run in Central Park which, uh, _also_ starts with live music and ends with fireworks,'   
'I'm sensing a theme here.' Samar interjected, with a knowing smile. 'And you hate running.' Aram simply gave a good-natured shrug.   
'But you don't,' he observed. 'And at least for this run I wouldn't have to wake up before the sun.' Samar tipped her head to him.   
'True.' 

'And last but not least...' Aram's eyes glittered with excitement. He set the pages down again, this time fully holding her gaze. 'We enjoy dinner and drinks anywhere outside of Times Square, and then once the ball's dropped and the great hoards of people all exit the square en masse-' he paused, his eyes flickering and his voice lowering to something far more gleefully conspiratorial '-we go the opposite direction and move in, and jump in the entire, newly _empty_ Square's giant pile of confetti before the cleaning crew picks it all up.' 

A wry smile tugged at Samar's lips, and a mischievous grin sparkled in her eyes. 

'The local cops and agents from the Bureau's New York field office block everyone from doing _exactly_ that,' she observed, slowly and almost just as conspiratorial. 'They even stand guard at every single subway stop that goes in and out of the Square to stop anyone trying to creep in that way. That part, I remember-' she scowled at the memory for a second '-they almost messed up our getaway.' 

'Samar.' Aram blinked, staring back at her dumbfounded and trying not to laugh at what, to him, was the most obvious thing in the world. 'We have _badges.'_

Samar pursed her lips, drawing out her act of contemplating the idea. 

Being the ones to sneak around and _–harmlessly-_ bend the rules for once rather than enforce them did sound like fun. 

'Ok,' she began to muse. 'Say we do this. How far do you think we can get _before_ we have to show our IDs?' 

Aram grinned back. He leaned in, lowering that conspiratorial tone further still until it was almost a whisper;   
'Well...' 

The flight was short, and the hotel room warm and cosy. The first two days of their time alone were full of fun and adventure, and the first two nights were blissfully quiet and full of satisfying meals followed by no washing up. 

...And then came the night of nights. The one they were really there for all along. 

Dressing to the nines in a sleek, red dress and a crisp suit with a matching tie and pocket square, dinner and dancing under the stars of the cloudless night _could_ easily have been more than a delightful enough way to ring in the new year... But even just the sheer apprehension of what was next to come made it doubly so. 

From Mr and Mrs Rockefeller, and onwards to Bonnie and Clyde... Or at least, as Aram liked to describe it anyway. 

The city was lit up and alive, the atmosphere electric with anticipation and excitement as the clocked ticked steadily towards midnight. 

Deep below the busy streets, Samar stood quietly in a subway carriage chugging its way across the city from the restaurant. Aram lingered close by her side, tapping away at his phone. 

The plan was beautiful in its simplicity. At the ground level, the crowd in the Square would be funnelled out as soon as the ball drop was over, with local cops and federal agents immediately blocking off every intersection in and out of the Square as soon as it was empty, and no way of getting past them. 

Underground, however, was a different matter. The rabbit's warren of tunnels and platforms at different levels in the subway station below the edge of the Square provided much more cover. Even with everyone being pushed out, with law enforcement bringing up the rear and then not allowing anyone else back through the tunnel into the Square just like up on the ground level, the twists and turns allowed them to hide. 

All it would take was some clever looping of the security camera feeds, a set of lock picks, and the ability to run like the wind. 

And well, between Samar and Aram, they had _that_ covered. 

'How's it going?' Samar murmured.   
'The first loop of the corridor's recorded,' Aram discreetly muttered back, barely audible over the clanging of speeding wheels over tracks. 'All I have to do is play it back to them, and then we'll have two minutes to disappear.' 

The corners of Samar's lips twitched with a wry smile 

'Easy,' she observed. Her calculating gaze panned around the crowded carriage; not a soul around paid them a shred of attention. The train began to slow, signalling their arrival at the 42nd street stop, and only then did anyone bother glancing up from their own personal worlds inside their phones. 

The crowd around them swarmed ever closer, waiting for the doors. Devilish excitement flashed in Samar's eyes. 

This was it. 

The train came to its stop, and the doors slowly rattled open. Samar and Aram stepped through and out onto the platform, fully enveloped in the crowd for cover. 

Aram's hand gripped his phone in his trouser pocket, one finger hovering over the go button that would render them invisible to anyone else watching on. For the moment, they shuffled along side by side in the crowd, casually strolling across the platform, and up the stairs, taking all of ten seconds to reach the point where the crowd began to separate, spreading out and heading for any number of different exits or other connections... And then Samar paused. She turned her head, shooting Aram a quiet, questioning glance. 

A small smile tugged at his cheeks, and he nodded, pressing the button on his phone. 

They darted forwards, powering ahead with purposeful strides. Heading around the bend into the only empty corridor –that leading out into Times Square which, at five minutes to midnight, _nobody_ wanted to be moving down- it took them only another six seconds to reach what would later be a line formed by burly, grumpy, suit and windbreaker clad agents with their arms crossed in annoyance. 

But onwards they pushed further still. 

Around just one more bend, and conveniently out of view of that line, it took only ten seconds more to reach their target. 

Out of sheer habit, Aram reached forwards, rattling the door to the maintenance closet.

'Locked,' he quietly observed.   
'We were really expecting anything else?' Samar chuckled back, as she crouched down. Aram shook his head, but broke into a grin all the same as he watched her.   
'You've got just over a minute left,' he replied. But Samar didn't respond. One hand reached down, slipping through the split of her dress and in a single, effortless motion, pulling out those two, tiny metal tools. Even crouching, balanced on her heels, and staring at the door with laser like focus, she was graceful. 

With but a slide and a turn, the door clicked open in a flash. 

Samar rose, turning her head to glance back at him again and flashing him a grin. 

'Like I said,' she mused. 'Easy.' Samar pulled open the door to the small closet, ducking inside and pulling Aram along with her. 

...Hardly the classiest of hideaways, but effective nonetheless. 

The door closed behind them with almost a full minute to spare, immediately plunging them into darkness. 

'And now we wait,' she whispered. Aram lifted his phone to his chin, allowing the light from the screen to illuminate his ear to ear grin in eerie blue-ness.   
'Mmhmm,' he hummed back. 'Fancy a spooky story?' Samar gave a good-natured eye roll.   
'Wrong holiday,' she chuckled. Samar leaned forwards, slipping her arms over Aram's shoulders and pulling him in until her lips ghosted softly over his.   
'Well, we've got time to kill,' Aram mused, pressing a quick but soft kiss to her forehead. 'What would you recommend we do while we wait?' Samar broke into a wry smile, as she drolly replied;   
'Isn't there some kind of live broadcast of the ball drop that you can play on your phone with the sound off?' 

With barely moments left on the countdown, Aram's phone lit up with just a few, quick taps of his fingers. Both of them stared down, huddled together and watching on avidly. 

The ball dropped. 

The instant noise of music and cheering was practically _deafening_ enough as it was... And then the rumbling of hundreds of thousands of people making their quick exit in a single, giant swarm, grew ever louder. 

Samar had to hand it to the agents tasked with the monotonous job of manning the event. For all the people crammed into the Square who would have spent all day waiting for the spectacle, they were all herded out again in under fifteen minutes. The crowd opting for the subway thundered and roared past their closet hideaway en masse, still riding the fresh high of ringing in the new year. 

And then... As the last of the spectators trickled through, and the Bureau agents bringing up the rear took their place at the platform end of the corridor around the bend to stop anyone sneaking back through to do, well, _exactly_ what Samar and Aram were trying to do, the air around them fell silent once more. 

'Ok,' Samar breathed. 'Now for the tricky part.'   
'Ready?' Aram whispered. With one hand on the door handle, Samar nodded back. Aram cast one last glance down at his phone, eyeing the live feed from the corridor right outside that in any second, only he was about to have access to. 'Ok,' he began. 'Three... Two...' They locked eyes, both of them taking slow, deep breaths. Samar's grip on the door handle tightened.   
'One,' she finished. 

Aram hit the go button on his screen, switching the security feed to the loop of the empty corridor that he had recorded earlier. 

Samar pushed the door open, and both of them lunged forwards. Not for a second did they wait to close the door softly behind them. Instead, and hand in hand, they raced onwards, up the empty corridor, as fast as they could. 

On and on, they ran with hearts thumping in their chests, for another thirty seconds that felt like oh so much more. 

And then the corridor came to the end that turned into stairs which in turn, became the rail edged opening that blasted them with the cool fresh air of the now eerily empty Times Square. 

_They had done it._

Samar let go of Aram's hand, jumping in the air with a whoop. 

As silly as it was, there was something deliriously wonderful about the adrenaline rush of successfully breaking the rules. 

Aram spun around and around, cheering and outstretching his arms as both their movements sent the knee high piles of confetti up in a whirlwind around them. Then he turned again, reaching out for her until his arms snaked around her waist, lifting her up and twirling her around and around in the colourful, flickering cloud. Samar closed her eyes, _basking_ in it. 

'So that was one way to do New Year's in Times Square, huh?' He chuckled softly in her ear. 'Happy New Year, Samar.' Samar opened her eyes again, staring back at him adoringly as she sank happily into his grasp.   
'Happy New Year, my love,' she breathed back. The cloud of colourful paper squares fluttered down around them as they slowed. Countless pieces caught in her long hair –and even Aram's too- but Samar didn't care. 

She leaned in, pulling Aram towards her, and pressing a slow, soft kiss to his lips. 

_'Freeze,'_ bellowed an unfamiliar voice in the distance. Samar and Aram lurched apart, glancing at the small army of angry, dark blue Bureau windbreakers surrounding them in tight formation. 'Hands in the air.' Samar and Aram swapped musing glances, both of them raising their hands exactly as instructed.   
'I guess that was bound to happen,' Aram chuckled.   
'Calm down, boys,' Samar drolly added. 'We're with you.' The leader of the team of agents raised a single, dubious eyebrow.   
'Or rather,' Aram tried to chime in, 'we're here to make sure you're uh, on the ball.' 

...If there had been any chance of crickets in the Square, Samar could have sworn she heard them buzzing around the FBI agents who saw no humour in Aram's straight faced delivery whatsoever. 

...But that didn't mean she couldn't have her own fun too. 

Slowly but surely reaching down with one hand, and gesturing earnestly to her purse, Samar reached inside, just as Aram reached with equal slowness into his jacket pocket. In almost perfect synchronisation, both FBI badges raised in the air, unfolding for all to see. 

The ring leader of the team lowered his weapon –albeit disgruntledly- gesturing for the others to do the same. 

'And I'm glad to say,' Samar mused. 'You passed with flying colours.' Beside her, Aram couldn't help but snort. Samar grabbed his hand, tugging him along and quickly past the gung-ho group. 'Keep up the good work, boys,' she added, calling back over her shoulder. 

Not for a moment did they break their jog, nor their laughter –not until they had finally, once again, crossed through the confetti piles, back over the border, and out of the Square. 

Then at last, Samar turned. A breathless smile lit her face, and Aram grinned back, delight sparkling in his eyes. 

Neither of them could help but laugh. 

There was no way they wouldn't have been caught once they were out in the open... But goodness, it was worth it. 

With bright, colourful fireworks still blaring in the sky overhead... _Nobody_ could say they hadn't started off the new year with a bang. 


End file.
